The Fiddle and The Drum
by Esbatty
Summary: A series of short, loosely connected stories revolving around a group of Squadmates during the Reaper Invasion of Mass Effect 3. OCs aplenty with humor and drama and some war waged in-between.
1. Drive By

The cool embrace of the ebon void was a welcome change to the sterile bustle of her enclosure. Here, out in the raw expanse that this vessel and her home-world hung, she felt a shred of peace despite the millions of gleaming metal constructs that constantly bombarded one another in an effort to simultaneously cause and stave off annihilation.

Her environmental suit, a second skin she'd known since her adolescence, suddenly felt confining when she tugged her foot free from the surface of the Alliance Cruiser. It was just so different walking across the hull of a warship rather than the Liveships she once helped to maintain in her youth.

The tech she salvaged, from human-designed magboots, were vastly different from the hand-me-downs she'd normally receive back on the Flotilla. The magnets were too new, too strong and the extra effort she'd put into every step felt like it'd tear open not only her suit but the flesh from her bones. The thought of watching her own blood freeze and fly out into space from such a wound sent a shiver down her spine.

"Shayla'Rae?"

A familiar flange blared over the comm breaking her morbid train of thought.

"Yeah?"

She received silence as a reply.

"Yeah- yes, Augur?"

"Have the hull repairs been completed?"

"Yes, sir."

"Excellent. Do not dawdle, Shayla'Rae, we've received orders to take another Firebase. Andreis, out."

With a sigh she once again tugged her foot from the hull and continued her trek back to the airlock.


	2. Kashmir

He hoped the harsh snap of his mandibles was loud enough to cover up most of the sigh he loosed as he surveyed the group.

"Listen here and listen well."

Even at the cusp of his marshaled career, in the middle of the biggest war in recorded history, he still felt too young to be in any position of leadership. Maybe it was the shadow of his Mother's legacy or maybe it was the call he received not an hour ago from his Mother's bondmate whom never aged a day from his earliest memory of her.

"Vorcha. Geth. Quarian. It doesn't where you came from or what you did before. Everyone fights. No one quits. You turn tail and the only spot for you on the shuttle is in the hold. In a body bag."

It was true. Every wave of reinforcements received was another surprise, and usually carried with it a mix of problems. First it was the Krogans who needed sedation just to get on the same shuttle. Next it was the Geth Platforms who ended up on the receiving end of far too many wasted thermal clips. After that it was the Vorcha and Batarians arguing over bad blood due to slaver raids.

"And if any of you think for one second the enemies we face take prisoners. You're wrong. Cerberus forces are Pro-Human, so if you have the wrong number of eyes or your legs bend in the wrong way you're shit out of luck. Geth are Geth, you know the drill. And Reapers, well, they either kill, eat, or convert whomever they come across. "

The sound of their shuttle's over-used engines drowned out the last bit of his speech. He had given it so many times as they'd lost and replaced too many of their number.

"Augur, you alright?"

A familiar voice crackled over his armor's comm while he trailed behind his squad.

"Yeah, just fine. You onboard yet or are you cloaked behind some crates again?"

"That was one time!"

"Uh huh, some flashback to your pilgrimage trying to stowaway on some ship, right?"

"I hate you."

"Its not a stereotype if its true."

"Hate is a strong word. Remember that, sir."

"You know technically I'm the highest ranking officer on the shuttle, that kinda makes me your Captain, Shayla."

"Ugh - I'll be in the hold picking out a body bag."

"A Quarian comedian thats gotta be rare."

"Shut up."

"Shut up, who?"

"Shut up, sir".


	3. Only Happy When It Rains

The tip of her armored little finger smeared the borrowed greasepaint in a high arch on her face as the shuttle's shields absorbed another volley from a cluster of nearby Geth Primes. Her newly drawn on eyebrows now gave her a permanent look of surprise mixed with suspicion.

She let herself slump back down onto the bench and tried her best to angle her face away from the her squadmate.

"Hey, Glory!"

_'Shit'_, she thought to herself. "What is it Shayla?"

"You smell something bad or what?" the Quarian woman traced the shape of Glory's eyebrow on her foggy, green faceplate. "Personally, I couldn't say. Environment suit comes with filters."

"Right. No, I'm - the turbulence. Turning away now."

"Aww, don't be that way. I think its interesting the way you humans take such pride in your appearances. Best thing about life in a environment suit is you can look like crap all damn day and no one knows as long as I don't clean the inside of my faceplace too often."

Glory started smacking the back of her head against the inner hull of the shuttle in a mock effort to knock herself unconscious.

"Besides", Shayla'Rae continued, "why are you drawing on your face to begin with? I thought that was a Turian thing? Isn't that Augur's color?"

The Alliance officer grit her teeth and stared blankly at the alien girl while screaming just loudly enough internally that the shuttle's engine drone covered it up.

"Oy, just. Alright, I'm telling this once, and just once. Anyone else asks I'll refer them to you."

"Ooh, okay."

"Hmm, I was doing a training op back on Earth. There was - I dunno, about a half dozen remote mines placed all over a shipyard. Lotsa shipping containers and boards and what not, and it was my job to defuse each mine while avoiding -"

"Were the mines real or like paint or something?" Shayla interrupted to ask.

"It was live fire exercise so the - LET ME TELL MY STORY!"

"Sorry", the Quarian's mouth light blinked weakly with her response.

"Alright, so, yes the mines were real but they were flash charges, like for a distraction or room breach rather than to wound or kill. Anyway, if the charges went off you'd be disoriented and of course it'd call attention to your location and most likely ensuring capture. Wanting to beat the record time set by Shepard, I sorta rushed through the first four, mostly letting my Omni-tool do the work."

"Wait THE Shep- sorry."

Glory rolled her eyes and answered, "Yes, Shepard held the record for this course, and I wanted to beat it. Well this was before the Battle of the Citadel, so mostly Shepard was a big deal to the rest of the ICT."

Shayla pulled her legs up to her chest, "Got it, go on. Please."

"So I was getting pretty cocky and by the time I got to the fifth mine, I was dead sure I was gonna remembered for this run on the course. And I was, just not for beating any records."

With her right hand, the Alliance Engineer rubbed off the Turian grease paint from over her eye, and in its place was some discolored skin and light scarring.

"Turns out the mine was rigged. Couldn't be disarmed via Omni-tool. It required some manual tinkering, and with my adrenaline up my hand weren't as steady as they shoulda been. I put my face too close and I took the explosion in the face. Luckily my gauntlet saved my sight but I guess the flash compounds weren't set right and it took my eyebrows and alot of my hair."

"Ouch."

"Damn right. Hair came back but the burns were a bit too much, and I didn't bother with any kind of surgery. I just did things the old fashioned way with a bit of make up and a steady hand. Like the one I lacked before."

"Wow, thats - so you got caught I take it?"

Glory dipped her little finger back into the small canister of paint, "Hell, no. Like I said, I didn't lose my sight. I couldn't hear for shit but, my job was to take out all six mines, so I got my bearings and set off for the sixth one while my pursuers swarmed my old position."

"Well, I'm glad you passed the first time."

"Nope. Did it all over again. Three more times."

"Punishment?"

"Nah, I passed it the second time around but like I said I was trying to beat Shepard's time and I meant it."

Shayla'Rae lifted her hands up and waved off her fellow squadmate, "You're a masochist."

The N7 Engineer shrugged and carefully began redrawing her eyebrow.


	4. Save Me

**Thump-thump. Thump-thump. Thump-thump.**

"Nervous, Auggie?" the shuttle's pilot asked the Turian seated next to him.

The bird-like officer halted the drumming of his large fingers, "No. And do not call me 'Auggie'. I am not one for nicknames. Just Augur will do."

"Alright, don't have to get touchy. Just tryna gauge your - SHIT!"

The shuttle violently shuddered from a barrage of concentrated fire.

"Well, the jig is up, Auggie. Looks like we lost the element of surprise along with the collective control of our bowels."

Augur jerked away from the human pilot. It was bad enough human food could cause a violent reaction to his Turian physiology but he certainly want to risk even catching a whiff of human excrement.

"It was a joke, just head on back and tell the Squad we're gonna have to pull a Krogan Air Drop over an especially Hot 'n Spicy LZ."

Without a moment's hesitation Augur shot up out of his seat and slipped into the back of the shuttle. His small, keen eyes scanned his mostly, new squad. He sighed, inwardly and began to address them one by one.

"Everything good back here, Hound?"

The Human Female's armor was exceptionally maintained for one who'd seen so much action in such little time. She was one of the few members of the N7 Special Ops to have attained actual N7 status in her time under the Alliance Military.

"Solid, sir", the Alliance Engineer responded while doffing on her helmet.

Of what he read that hadn't been redacted from her file were several requests to be shipped back to Earth, all of which were denied by Admiral Hackett himself. Overwatch assured him that she'd continue submitting similar requests but would not defy the orders to remain under the Young Turian's command.

"And you, Shayla?"

The hooded, alien woman tapped her modified Talon pistol against her faceplate then gestured with the weapon towards the cockpit, "Tell Gallows up there to stop calling me 'Hips 'n' Nips' everytime he sees me and I'll be just fine, sir."

"He calls you wha- nevermind. Duly noted, I'll… discuss it with him once we get back from the mission."

She returned a weak shrug in reply.

Lastly, Augur shuffled towards the sliding, side door to the shuttle and cast a side glance at his last squad member. The thin, dark blue Machine stood silently in the back corner of the passenger compartment. The thick metal flaps that encircled its single, lighted sensor that made up what passed for its face flexed almost as if it was furrowing its brow at its organic Officer.

"Augur Andreis?" The Geth Platform addressed him.

"Uhh, you alright… Eight-three-oh-two, is it?"

"If that is the designation preferred to address this Unit."

"Thats whats etched into your outer shell, so if you're good with it."

"It will suffice, Augur Andreis."

"Yeah, great", Augur replied then turned to address the rest of the squad.

"The Landing Zone is compromised so we're making an Air Drop. Secure loose gear, activate personal shields, and -"

_"Hold on to your butts"_, Gallows interrupted over their shared comm channel while he remotely slid open the shuttle door.


	5. Strong Words

_Men hear loud voices, but listen to strong words._

__"Shouldn't you be off spit polishing your armor or asking the damn Geth about better strategies to use against its own kind, hmm?"

This was one of the rare occasions her people were allowed in the Citadel without being run off into the shady parts of the Citadel or into C-Sec's holding cells, and she wasn't going to waste it being debriefed.

"Look Shayla-"

"Oh no, I will absolutely not be taking any orders right now. We're on leave and I'm not going to have any of your crap. Its fine while running Operations. It keeps things light in face of all the - the, _keelah_, but not right now. Not today, Augur. Just let me sit here at the cafe staring at birds and sipping whatever this is that nice Asari served me."

The little Quarian woman shook her tumbler at the raptor-shaped Turian before her. He seemed to shrink back a little at the sound of the melting ice as it rattled around, as she shooed him away from her table.

"I can't go just yet, Shayla. I made a promise to 'someone' that I'd introduce you to them."

The contrasting temperatures of her rising body heat and the cool drink had fogged her helmet's faceplate enough that Augur couldn't see her read her facial expression properly.

For a long moment she said nothing, and his eyes started to wander about checking for the nearest clear path should things turn towards a bout of light violence.

"Fine. Send them over, but don't - I don't want to see you again until we're boarding the damn Cruiser."

"Uhh, sure thing, Shayla'Rae", he replied before making an about-face and gesturing to that 'someone' in the distance.

Quickly she pulled the hood of her environmental suit back and adjusted one of the many tubules that the ornamental cloth usually shrouded from view. This particular one regulated the ambient temperature, and if she wanted extradite herself from this potentially awkward meeting she'd need to be able to see.

"_Oh Crap_", she muttered when a stomach churning snapping sound came from the back of her head.

An approaching silhouette filled her obscured field of view as she blindly reached to one of the pouches that lined her form fitting suit at her waist.

"No worries, 'Hips'. I got this."

"Noooo", she quietly howled to herself.

"Aww, don't be that way, 'Nips'. You know you love the G-man. I'm here for you and all your glorious curves."

"Don't call me that, Gallows. I don't need this, any of this."

She tried to stand up and shake off her pilot's ministrations but he put a heavy hand on her shoulder and pushed her back down on the chair. The chair's feet made an all too audible screech that drew unwanted eyes to the odd pair.

"Shush, now. I'm not just a pilot and a ruggedly, handsome face but I'm also a pretty damn decent engineer."

After he finished making a quick inspection of the damage cabling, the swarthy skinned human took off his Alliance issue cap and chucked it onto the table narrowly missing Shayla's drink.

"Ugh, watch it! And don't break anything back there. I have some omni-gel and a binding agent in my - OOH! Don't touch that!"

"Sorry. Hand slipped."

"Uh huh, feeling me up in public while I'm waiting for a-"

"Friend of Auggie's? You're talking to him, Suit-Kitten."

"I'm going to kill him for this."

"That dextro-sumbitch sure likes to gamble. Wiped out his leave stipend and all he had left to part with his dignity and an introduction to you."

"Slowly, and without mercy while that Colony idiot is sleeping."

Gallows laughed through grit teeth as he made three precise welds with his Omni-Tool sealing the tube's insulation.

"Done."

Her light pink flesh reacted to the flood of cool air and the tiny muscles began to lightly ripple, bringing her warmer blood to the surface.

"Thank you."

"No, I should thank you. Now I got some inspiration for my next mail to Fornax."

"Let me guess, you're gonna end with a joke about popping my induction port?"

"Now you done and spoiled my creative process."

"Boo hoo."

"I'm serious here. There are three things I don't do: one is I don't look for no pointers, and two I don't kiss and tell."

"That crap. Whats with the writing in to Fornax then?"

"Like I said, I was inspired by our little repair dalliance. Half the stuff in that skin mag is made up, anyway. I read it like the literature it is."

The way his green eyes seemed to search through the transparent face of her helmet unnerved her, and she reflexively brought up the tumbler before her and buried the straw into the helmet's induction port.

"Speaking of the Finest Xenophilia, what're you doin' with the rest of your leave - Shayla'Rae vas Corsica?"

She choked a bit on her drink at his question.

"Ahh, I don't know. I've never been to the Citadel before."

"Well I have, and I've a few ideas, a few secluded spots for some - thoughtful conversation with some particular sights to behold."

"I don't kn- wait. Whats the third thing you don't do? You said no 'pointers' and no 'bragging', whats the last one?"

Shayla crossed her arms in front of her chest, breaking Gallow's favorite view much to his chagrin.

"Come with and find out", he answered with an overly nonchalant shrug.

She leaned back in her chair and surprised the both of them with her answer.


	6. Mr Blue Sky

"I may be *hssk* only a metre tall standing up but your *hssk* Mother knows I'm one point two *hssk* meters tall lying down."

Gallows stared daggers at the pot-bellied alien that stood next to him behind the massive chunk of debris.

"Really? You think this is the time for dick and Mother jokes, when there is a crap load of Reaper units all around us?"

The Volus Engineer's little light-up eyes briefly flickered as a response.

"Grrrr, I f*ckin' hate you. Not your squidgy race, not the Turian butt kissing government you serve, but you, Cyrille. Just. You."

Gallows, from his crouched position, ground his heels into the grit coated grate floor and turned away from his oversized toddler of a cohort. He snapped his helmet back on and peeked over the scorched chunk of what passed for Krogan Architecture. A handful of Cannibal units swarmed over corpses as they upchucked stomach acid onto the pile of their dead brethren.

"God, why did you have to put a mine trap so damn close to the supply box? Now we're gonna have a buncha armored, punk ass Reaper freaks between me and fresh thermal clips. Are listening to me, Cyrille? My hate for you grows like a neglected Lima Bean in a Primary School Science Experiment."

Cyrille waved off the human with a dismissive flap of his stubby arms and continued to poke at the holographic display of his Omni-Tool.

"Give me *hssk* another few seconds and *hssk* I can loose another proximity-"

"And I'll have you know my Mother is a Saint. She's pure. That Woman is holy!"

"-mine. *hssk*"

Gallows dropped back down as soon as one of the Cannibal's head popped up.

"Crap, they heard you, you lil' sack-a-farts. They f*ckin' heard you."

Cyrille pounded his three-fingered fist against his squadmate's shoulder.

"No, they heard *hssk* you, Earth-Clan, and your *hssk* incessant Maternal chatter."

He drew his Predator pistol, its last thermal clip only recently spent when he fired wildly at the previous batch of Reaper forces. It now had little use to him other than to pistol whip the now armored Batarian versions of Husks.

"I did not sign up for this crap. I'm a Pilot, I should be in the shuttle lovingly calling out innuendos at Shayla and Glory not - playing O.K. Corral with a bomb crazy midget."

_Tink-tink._

"*hssk* **GRENADE!**"

Gallow's heart sunk while the chubby alien combat rolled out of cover.


	7. Paradise City

"What's this charge for?"

The Turian attendant activated her own Omni-Tool and looked over the information.

"Ah, that is an additional charge for room sterilization."

"I paid upfront for that."

"Yes to accommodate your companion. This charge is for sterilizing the room for your own… traces."

Gallows narrowed his green eyes at the Turian Woman, "Traces?"

She held up her hands, "Your non-Dextro skin flakings and such you probably left on the furnishings. You Humans are not the cleanliest beings."

"Oh, OH, yeah. I gotcha. I get it. Just charge it to this chit here."

He waved Augur's gambling losses over the Attendant's Omni-Tool then headed outside.

"When'd you take that one of Deja there?"

The image of the N7 Infiltrator quickly blinked out of existence as the young Quarian woman spun on her feet to face the Human.

"What?"

Gallows plucked the cap off his head, wiped the sweat off his forehead and placed the the hat back over his black hair.

"The shot of Janus and the lightning in the background. Its a good picture is all I'm saying."

"Oh, that was from back in London before Cyrille joined us."

"Right, right. That'd be the time we escorted that one hacked VI-"

"-of Commander Shepard. The one that Adult Entertainment company would use to film uhhh, what was it called?"

"Javaca's **VI for Vice** series."

"Why did we even get sent to rescue that? Wait a minute. That order came from you if I remember correctly."

"Welllllll - its sorta a morale booster for the Alliance. Just think of it as part of the War Effort, Shay."

Shayla tapped her foot on the metal grating that served as the sidewalk in the area, "Uh huh."

"Its true! Its like a good luck charm - that the top brass doesn't like to talk about. At least out loud But isn't it kinda weird it could switch between Male and Female versions of Shepard? I mean c'mon everyone knows Shepard's a-"

"Rule Six point Three of the Extranet."

Gallows laughed through gritted teeth.

The tickle at the back of Shayla's throat had turned into a wet rustle in her chest by the time the cab pulled up in front of the Turian Shelter. Despite the fact the cab's doors were automated Gallows gripped the edge of the door to hold it up for his Quarian companion. Shayla nodded in thanks then stepped into the vehicle and settled into the rear seating area.

Gallows tried to follow suit but the Asari Driver held up a teal hand, "Sorry, no can do, Sailor. This is not exactly the best corner of the Citadel and I cannot have any Working Girls ruining the detailing I just had done."

"Are you kidding me? She's not-"

The Driver interrupted, "Take it up with Suits, I am just enforcing policy. I have no personal issue with uhh Diplomatic Relations but the reputation of this Shelter and the…" She looked Gallows up and down as he stood one foot in and one foot out of the cab, "condition you and your companion here are says I am in the right. So either state your destination and sit or you can call another service."

Shayla grabbed the hem of her hood and pulled it lower over her faceplate, "Just get in you human _bosh'tet_, and **you** - would you take us back to Dock Twenty Four?"

The Driver cocked a bright red brow marking at Gallows as he stood there a moment longer his face locked in a mask of displeasure, the sweat on his upper lip quivered under his harsh breaths.

"You heard her", he plopped into the passenger seat "Bay D24."

"Right away."


End file.
